


Worthy of the Word

by severity_softly



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Smut, top Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severity_softly/pseuds/severity_softly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch and Reid get a push towards each other from an unexpected source, but often, it's easier to admit to what you want than it is to actually take it. (Built around the events of Elephant's Memory, 3x16)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy of the Word

**Author's Note:**

> Written for slash_girl for cm_exchange, for the prompt "those who eavesdrop never hear anything good. Or do they?" Originally published December 2008. A few lines of dialogue have been lifted directly from Elephant's Memory, 3x16, the episode around which the fic is built.

__

_Yearning: It needs to hurt in order to be worthy of the word. Otherwise it is just wanting. ~ St. John of the Cross_

Rossi was very specific:  _Be at my office at seven.  There's something important you need to hear._   They'd come a long way since the days when Reid couldn't so much as look at Rossi without feeling a little like he was going to faint, but Reid still felt this compulsion to do whatever Rossi told him to do.  Especially when Rossi said it was important.

In retrospect, Reid should have found it a little strange.  The team was gone, and Reid was sitting at his desk in an empty bullpen waiting for seven o'clock to roll around.  He was too engrossed in looking over a case file that he and Hotch were supposed to go do a consult on the following day to pay much attention, though, and when his cell alarm beeped at seven, he left his desk and walked up the ramp towards Rossi's office.

He'd known Hotch was still here.  Hotch was almost always here late, but Spencer hadn't expected to hear Hotch's voice coming out of Rossi's office when he got within a few feet of the door.  Spencer stopped, thinking he should come back later, until the conversation inside the room abruptly changed and he heard his name.

"So," Rossi said casually.  "What's going on with you and Spencer?"

There was a long silence, and then Hotch found a reply.  "I'm... sorry.  What?"

"You. And. Spencer," Rossi replied simplistically, each word holding its own special weight. 

Spencer took a step closer to the door in spite of himself, and then wondered if he should be eavesdropping.  Then he wondered when his heart had started hammering against his ribs.

"Me and Spencer?" Hotch repeated.

"I'm not repeating myself, Aaron.  I know you're stubborn, but you're not thick, and you very obviously heard me."

There was another long silence, and Spencer could almost imagine the discerning look Hotch was probably directing at Rossi.  "He's been doing good work."

"That's not what I asked."

"Well, you were hardly specific, Dave."

"How long has it been?" Rossi asked.

"What?"

"I'd wager you were attracted to him long before you were divorced.  But you were too... _noble_ to do anything about it.  You made vows, and you weren't going to break them, and I respect that, even if I've always though Haley was...  Well, you know how I felt about Haley."

Hotch was silent again, and Spencer's heart had started pounding faster.  Hotch had signed the divorce papers?  Spencer really hadn't thought Hotch wouldn't, but Hotch hadn't said any more about it since they'd driven home from their custodial with Hardwick. 

Spencer pushed that thought aside and focused on the more pressing (and exciting) prospect:  Hotch was attracted to him?  Well, Hotch hadn't said as much, but Rossi was rarely wrong when it came to reading people.  And Hotch was almost never this silent around Rossi. 

Spencer took another step towards the door.  Things weren't right; they hadn't been right with Spencer since Chula Vista--since Lindsey and Jack Vaughan, and that _boy_ \--but what he was overhearing was making his mind race with hope.  He wasn't foolish enough to expect that having more than a working relationship with Hotch would fix everything, but he knew having someone-- _having Hotch_ \--wrap their arms around him when he got home from work would help steady him.

He heard Hotch draw a long breath.

"Dave," he said, then stopped. 

The silences were painful, and after a moment, Spencer realized he was holding his breath.

"There's nothing happening, and there never will be."

"Why?"

"I'm the SAC."

"Never stopped me before."

"You were never the SAC."  And suddenly Hotch laughed softly.  "And I'm not you."

"I hadn't noticed," Rossi said, but there was a smile in his voice.  "So, by all means, let that stand in the way of your happiness." 

"I'm not unhappy."

"You've been unhappy since I've come back."

"...I'm too old for him."

Spencer frowned, and then heard Rossi say exactly what he was thinking, though in a decidedly less analytical and tactful way: "You're an idiot if you really believe he gives a shit about how old you are."

"Why is this even your concern?"

"I just thought if you'd say it out loud, admit it in front of God and... everyone, it might knock some sense into you."

Spencer's heart jumped into his throat when Rossi paused before the word 'everyone', and it didn't go back down even after Rossi hadn't given away that he knew Spencer was probably hearing this.

"I'm being perfectly sensible," Hotch said.

"Admit it."

There was another long pause, and then, "Why?"

"It would be a considerable blow to my ego if I was wrong about all of this."

Another pause, and this time, Hotch gave an unhappy laugh.  "You're not wrong, Dave.  You're almost never wrong."

"So say it."

"I'm attracted to Spencer."

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, and then pressed his lips together.  When no one said anything for a long moment, he considered running, certain they'd heard him.

Finally, Hotch spoke.  "Happy?"

"Very," Rossi replied, sounding amused.

"Can we drop this now?"

"Yes.  I think so."

Spencer stood there, frozen for a moment.  He barely heard the sounds of shuffling inside the office.  He must have been standing there longer than he'd realized, because when Rossi emerged, it took Spencer off guard.  He actually staggered back a few feet in surprise and stared at him, wide-eyed.

Rossi smirked, inclined his head towards his office door, and then walked past Spencer without a word.  He just reached out to give Spencer a couple of firm pats on the shoulder, which actually pitched Spencer forward a step, and kept moving.  Spencer let out a quiet squeak-like noise and stood there... until he heard a chair move in Rossi's office, and then he bolted down the ramp to his desk.  He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked as quickly as he could to the elevator.

Rossi turned and frowned at him when Spencer reached it.  "What the hell are you doing?"

"Running," Spencer admitted, his voice small, and then cursed himself for it.  Why was Rossi--like Hotch--so impossible to lie to?

"Spencer..."  Rossi looked disappointed, and it made something in Spencer's chest tug uncomfortably.  "You'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not see that you want him too."  He was quiet for a moment, and then turned back to look at the numbers above the elevator as they changed.  "Strauss has gone home.  It's just you and him here.  And Aaron is a friend of mine; if I just went to that trouble _and_ spilled his 'secret', I'm going to be more than a little pissed off if you don't put the information I gave you to good use."

Spencer swallowed and stared at him.

"Turn around," Rossi told him, but his voice was strangely gentle.

Hotch was walking toward the bullpen, and Spencer stared at Rossi another long moment before he forced himself to obey and made his feet move back towards his desk.

"Reid," Hotch said, when Spencer got back to his desk.

"Hi.  Hi.  Um... hi."

Hotch frowned.  "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yeah.  Fine.  I forgot something."  Hotch stared at him until Spencer realized he wasn't getting what he supposedly forgot, and he started to pull open his desk drawer, but then just turned to look at Hotch.  "Can I talk to you?"

Hotch's frown deepened.  "Yeah.  What do you need?"

"In your office?"

Hotch was starting to look more confused, and more than a little concerned, but he nodded and turned towards his office.  "You know, there isn't anyone here."

 _God, I know_ , Spencer thought.  "It's just... more comfortable."

"Okay," Hotch replied, and he didn't say anything until they got back to his office.  He held the door for Spencer, and then closed it behind them.  "Should I sit?"

When Spencer turned around, Hotch was actually smiling faintly, and it made a little of the tension in Spencer's shoulders melt away.  Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.  Maybe, after Hotch had admitted to liking Spencer in the next office over not ten minutes ago, Hotch would be more receptive.  "I don't know.  Maybe."

The smile didn't fade, but Hotch's brows drew together again, and he nodded.  "Okay."  He started to move to his desk and Spencer reached out and grabbed his wrist. 

"No.  Don't."  Spencer's heart was suddenly thrumming in his chest again--he wasn't sure it had ever stopped thrumming, actually--and his hand on Hotch's skin felt tingly... which was stupid, because he knew rationally that love and attraction were chemical, and none of those chemicals involved should make parts of your body that weren't designed for the sexual act _tingle_.  But nonetheless, his hand felt a little like there was electricity running through it, which was unexpected.  And nice.  And... _God_ , what was he doing?  He swallowed hard.

Hotch's brows had lifted and his eyes were fixed on Spencer's hand for a moment, and then they traveled up Spencer's arm to his face.  "Spencer..."

"Yeah?" Spencer replied.  In the span of a few heartbeats, it became obvious that Hotch was waiting for him to say something, though.  "I like you," he blurted.

Hotch's brows inched farther towards his hairline, and then he drew a deep, long breath.  "I like you too."  His tone was too easy, though; too casual, too _friend_ ly.

 _It's easier to ask for forgiveness, than permission_ , Spencer told himself.  He thought he might pass out, but he took a step forward and brushed his hand over a sharp cheekbone.  The gesture was a lot more awkward than he intended, but he ignored that.  "That's not how I meant it."

Hotch's hand caught Spencer's wrist, and he tugged Spencer's hand away gently, looking slightly startled.  "Reid."

Before Hotch could protest, Spencer stepped in and pressed his lips to Hotch's, his free hand falling to Hotch's waist.  He heard Hotch suck in a sharp breath, and then as soon as it started it was over and Hotch was drawing back.

"Spencer, I'm not sure sure what you think you're doing," Hotch said quickly, and Spencer felt his heart sink.

For a genius, he suddenly felt like an idiot.  He didn't really know how to do this, how to _seduce_ someone, and he should have just talked, not come in here and just try to _kiss_ Hotch!

Hotch shook his head, frowning and looking a little agitated.  "Were you just...?"

Spencer's heart seemed to skip a beat when he thought Hotch was going to ask if he'd been listening to Rossi and Hotch's conversation, but then Hotch changed tack.

"Spencer, I'm flattered, but you know this is inappropriate."

In his cadence and posture, Spencer could see that Hotch clearly wanted this encounter to be over.  The swell of emotion in Spencer's chest was overwhelming, and he wasn't sure if it was longing or disappointment.

Hotch wanted him; Spencer had heard the words from Hotch's mouth.  But Hotch would never let it happen, and he'd said that much as well.  _There's nothing happening, and there never will be_.  Somewhere, somehow, something inside Spencer shut down.

"I'm sorry," Spencer found himself saying, and he wondered when his brain had sent the signal to his mouth to say _that_.  His feet were moving too, away from Hotch, and he didn't remember giving that command to his body either.

"It's..." Hotch started, then the sentence seemed to get lost somewhere.

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer blurted.  He had almost backed out the door.  "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

There was something in Hotch's expression that was almost regretful, but Reid told himself to ignore it, or it would drive him crazy.

"Eight o'clock," Hotch said, and Spencer turned and left.

 

**********

 

The consult the following day was awkward.  Neither one of them really said anything to each other outside of work related things.  There was somewhat stilted conversation in the car, but that was it.  Spencer wasn't willing to bring up what happened.  He didn't think he should be the one to do it anyway.  It was _Hotch_ that had put a stop to what had happened between them, so Spencer would wait for _Hotch_ to say something.

Which, of course, he never did.  Spencer suspected he never would.

A few cases came and went, good and bad, and Spencer couldn't help but notice the distance Hotch was putting between them.  He seemed to go out of his way to team Spencer up with anyone other than him, though it was a little worse when they weren't working.  It was ratcheting up Spencer's malaise.  Spencer didn't think Rossi was oblivious to it either, but Rossi hadn't said a word.

Even before the incident in Aaron's office, however, it had started to be a common occurrence that Hotch would pair Spencer with Rossi on cases.  It had been incredibly flattering at first, when Rossi had first re-joined the BAU, though Spencer suspected that Hotch was just trying to figure out who worked the best with Rossi.  It had turned out to work fairly well, though, their profiling styles complimenting each other's. 

It had never happened before, but Spencer wasn't very happy about it when Hotch stuck him with Rossi for the first time following Rossi's "set up".  He felt more than a little foolish after his attempt to "seduce" Hotch, if you could even call it that.

And it was all Rossi's fault.

Spencer waited until they were away from the team, keeping stride with Rossi as they walked toward their SUV, and then lowered his voice, turning to look at Rossi.  "Why did you do this to me?"

Rossi didn't reply; he just kept walking.  For that matter, he didn't even look at Spencer, and Spencer pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking again, not looking away from Rossi's face.  "David."

No reply.

Spencer stared at him, and then nearly tripped around a parking meter.  His gaze turned into a glare.  "Why didn't you tell me that was there?"

That was followed by the tiniest of laughs and a little smirk, and Spencer shook his head and tried to drop the subject.  But he just couldn't let it go.  After a few moments, he swallowed and continued.  "He said no."

"Of course he did," Rossi said finally, as casually as possible.

Spencer's mouth fell open, and then he snapped it shut again.  "Again, that begs the question, _why did you do this to me_?"

"You both need something."

That threw Spencer again, and he waited for Rossi to elaborate.  When that didn't happen, he pressed more, "Are you going to bestow your ancient wisdom on me, or do I have to guess?"

Rossi actually smiled faintly, but he was still looking ahead of them.  "Ancient?  I take offense at that."

Spencer cleared his throat and looked away.  "Sorry."  He paused, then looked back.  " _David--_ "

Rossi didn't just turn to look at Spencer then, he actually stopped, and got in front of Spencer to hold up a hand.  Spencer stopped too, and Rossi forced him to meet his gaze without a word.  "He needs to learn to relax, and you need to learn to be more assertive."

When Spencer's mouth fell open this time, he couldn't make himself shut it, and Rossi turned around again and started walking.  Spencer stared at his back, watching Rossi walk away, and for a moment he actually considered not following.  But they were on a case, and Spencer knew he had to follow, so he jogged back up to Rossi, looking at him imploringly.  "I tried," he said, but Rossi didn't seem to believe him, and truthfully, Reid _knew_ he'd given up incredibly easily in Hotch's office.  "I've never done this before!" he exclaimed, his voice a harsh whisper.

Rossi shrugged.  "Start."

"I've never even _dated_!"

"Start," Rossi said lightly.

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, and then just held a groan of frustration.  "Some days I really don't like you very much."

Rossi grinned, looking far too amused for Spencer's taste.  "I can live with that."

Spencer stopped dead in his tracks, and again he was watching Rossi's back as he kept walking.  And _damn it_ Spencer wanted Rossi to stop and talk to him, but that didn't happen.  Spencer moved to turn around the other direction, stutter started, stopped, and then followed to Rossi to the SUV anyway, feeling particularly surly.

 

**********

 

Things were tense.

That was an understatement.

Between his quickly returning cravings, and the invisible barrier between him and Hotch when they weren't working, Spencer felt like he was unraveling.  His footing wasn't solid, so he did the only think he could think to do.  He found an NA meeting and went.  He couldn't fix the other things, but he could stop the cravings before they got to him.

It had been disappointing, if also completely expected and a relief in many ways, when his meeting was abruptly interrupted by a case, and then... well, then they were in Texas, and everything got worse.  Much, much worse.

Given the stark disparity between Spencer and Owen Savage's lives, it was almost frightening how much Spencer found he so completely understood Owen.  Spencer knew what he was feeling was a volatile mix of stress, transference, and sympathy, and he wasn't unaware how erratic his behavior was, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

" _Reid, can I talk to you_?"

Spencer snapped his mouth shut.

Those were words none of the team wanted to hear while on a case, not when spoken in front of a room full of people, and especially not in that _tone_.  They were also words no one could deny, so Spencer followed Hotch into the office off the side off the police station, and let loose once the door was shut behind him.  Before he knew it, both their voices were raised. 

He didn't know when the shift happened either, but after they shouted at each other for a few seconds, suddenly the argument became more than just about Owen Savage.

"I want you to go back to the Savage house and I want you to go through Owen's room."

"Morgan's already doing that," Spencer snapped, stung.  Hotch was pushing him away.  Again.  Spencer was struggling, and he _knew_ Hotch couldn't do anything now, but Spencer _wanted_ him to anyway.

"Yeah, and you're going to join him."

"Oh, you're _punishing_ me?!"  The words held a weight that he knew Hotch would understand.  They were about the case, yes, but they were also about the way things were going between the two of them lately.  They were about the fact that Spencer knew Hotch wanted him, and he was punishing them both by not grabbing on to what they could have together. It was spilling over into every aspect of their relationship now, even their working one.

For a brief second, Spencer _knew_ he saw understanding flash through Hotch's gaze, and then it was gone and Hotch was shutting him down.  "No. I'm using you."  _Get your head back in the game; this isn't about us right now_.  "You know this kid better than anybody. Go _find us something we can use_!"

If Spencer shouted anymore, he knew he'd cross the line, so he turned and left.

The rest of the case went from bad to worse... well, _Spencer_ thought it had ended well, but he knew the rest of the team didn't feel that way.  Not exactly.  Spencer had saved lives, but he knew no one had exactly been happy with how he'd done it.  Most especially not Hotch.

Spencer felt better, though.  Even as Hotch threatened--sort of--to fire him on the jet, because there was something oddly gentle then, some of Hotch's caring seeping out from under the surface after they'd all had a chance to come down from the pressure of the case.

It didn't fix anything.  When they got off the jet, the tension would return, maybe even more than before, after Hotch had let his guard slide for a moment.  The unspoken words would still be under the surface.  Everything would go back to routine... to "normal".  But for the moment, Spencer couldn't help but smile.

 

 

The next Beltway Clean Cops meeting didn't start until 8:30, so Spencer waited around the BAU, catching up on paperwork.  It was almost too quiet, and Spencer didn't really want another lecture from anyone else, so he kept his eyes on his desk and was thankfully left alone.  He wound up being the last person to leave.  Usually Hotch was the last, but Spencer suspected he left earlier tonight because Spencer was staying.  Just as Spencer suspected, they _were_ back to that again.

By the time Spencer left the BAU and sat through his meeting, he felt a little more centered, though it still really didn't ease his discomfort with the way the last few days and the last few cases (especially the one they'd just come home from) had gone in regards to his relationship with Hotch.  It didn't make the way Hotch left early because of Spencer feel any better.

Spencer started to drive home, telling himself not to think about it, but he got within a few blocks of his apartment and sighed... then reluctantly pulled his cell phone out and called Rossi.

He and Hotch needed to have the conversation they _didn't dare_ to _really_ have in the police station in Texas.  He steeled himself when Rossi answered.

" _Don't_ say anything... but I need Hotch's address."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then something that sounded suspiciously like a badly stifled laugh.  "I can do better.  I can give you directions."

"I have a GPS," Spencer said.

"That's... Ah.  Okay."

Spencer stubbornly suppressed a smile as he heard fumbling over the phone, no doubt for a phone/address book.  He could imagine Hotch's number, color-coded in blue for friend, or maybe yellow for co-worker.  No, probably green for both.  For a second, Spencer wondered what color he was in (because Rossi wouldn't have trusted his cell phone completely, and would have wanted a hard copy of all their numbers somewhere), until Rossi was rattling off an address.  Spencer thanked him, entered it in his GPS, and then pulled a U-turn as soon as he hung up.

Thirty minutes later, he was knocking on Hotch's front door and hoping he hadn't made another astoundingly stupid decision.  He didn't wait for Hotch to say 'hello' when the door opened.  "We need to talk."

Hotch was just staring at him, and Spencer could see the mix of questions on his face; everything from 'how did you know where I lived?' to 'why are you torturing me?'  (Which was almost funny.  Almost.)  He finally settled on, "There's nothing to talk about."

"There's plenty to talk about," Spencer said.  He rolled up onto the balls of his feet, then back down, and glanced around the entry way.  When he looked back at Hotch, he inclined his head, a silent request to come in, and Hotch sighed and stepped aside.

"Haley's not here."  It wasn't a question.  Spencer knew she wouldn't be.  Hotch had probably signed the divorce papers months ago, if he'd signed them right after they'd left Hardwick... of course, Spencer still didn't know exactly when Hotch _had_ signed them, as Hotch hadn't spoken of it since then.  Regardless, Spencer wasn't entirely sure how to start this conversation, and the first thing that had struck him when he came inside was that the house felt far too big for just one man.

Hotch shut the door.  "I think she's still with her mother."

Spencer let his eyes linger on a mostly empty mantel.  "You signed the divorce papers?"

There was a long pause, and then an almost too quiet, "I thought I told you to go to your meeting." 

It was hardly a subtle way to change the subject, and Spencer's lips parted in surprise.  He turned to look at Hotch to see his expression was calm, even if his gaze was a little hard. 

"Why do you think I'm here so late?"

"Reid..."  Hotch seemed to weight his next words, and then finally said, "Are you using again?"

"Why do we need to talk about this?" Spencer found himself saying immediately, almost surprised by how suddenly that question made him bristle.  It was ridiculous to expect anyone on the team to have not known, but he still hated that they all did, and no one had ever been that explicit about voicing it before now.

"Your behavior on this case--"

Spencer raised his voice.  " _My behavior was--_ "

" _Reckless and stupid and you could have been killed!_ " Hotch said, matching Spencer's tone and getter louder to cut him off. 

Spencer leaned back on his heels, not having even realized he'd leaned forward, and clenched his jaw, looking down at the carpet.  "I've already heard the lecture, Hotch."

"We couldn't talk about the important things on the jet," Hotch replied, and Spencer could feel Hotch's gaze on him even if he wasn't looking.

"Your possibly firing me wasn't important?"  Spencer didn't look up, and Hotch didn't answer him.  Spencer drew a few steadying breaths.  "No," he said, after what felt like too long a pause.

"No, what?"

"I'm not _using_ ," Spencer bit out uncomfortably.  "I haven't in almost a year.  It's a non-issue."  It really wasn't, with the way Spencer had been feeling, but that wasn't something Spencer wanted to go into right now.

There was another long pause, and Spencer could hear Hotch draw an exceedingly deliberate, steady breath.  When Hotch spoke again, his voice was gentler that before.  "Do you want some coffee?"

That was unexpected. Spencer frowned and looked up.  He wasn't certain how to read the expression on Hotch's face. 

"Sure."  Spencer crossed his arms over himself and followed Hotch to the kitchen, leaning against the door frame.  He silently watched as Hotch started making the coffee and pulled two mugs from his cabinet. 

Spencer cleared his throat, reminded himself of what Rossi told him about being assertive, and threw caution out the window.  "Are you asking out of professional concern, or are you asking because you want to fuck me, and you don't want to fuck a drug addict?"

Hotch's back was to Spencer, but Spencer heard one of the mugs hit the counter too hard to have been set down purposely, almost like it had been nearly dropped.  After a moment, Hotch turned to stare at Spencer.  "Reid--"

"Are the 'important things' we couldn't talk about the fact that you care about me?  More than you think you should?"

" _Reid._ "

Spencer crossed the room to stand in front of Hotch, his gaze holding Hotch's, almost daring Hotch not to look away.  "I heard you."

Hotch's brows were drawn together, but he didn't avert his eyes.  "What?"

"I heard you tell David you wanted me," Spencer said, and watched the frown on Hotch's face draw tighter.

"Spencer..."  Hotch drew a breath that was shaky, and then finally turned his head to the side to stare at the opposite wall of the kitchen.  "It's not that simple."

"You're divorced now."

"I'm still your boss."

"It's not about that," Spencer said.

Hotch looked back and shook his head.  "I'm supposed to uphold higher standards--"

"Oh, I'm sorry I don't meet your standards," Spencer snapped, which was completely unfair because he knew that wasn't what Hotch meant, but somehow, he didn't care.

"--Higher standards than sleeping with my team!"  Hotch said, raising his voice again.  "Stop twisting my words!" 

"Stop hiding behind excuses!"

Hotch's eyes went a little wide, and he stared at Spencer for a long moment.  "Spencer, what's gotten in to you?"

"I..."  _God, say it.  Say it now before you back out of this again_.  "I want you.  I've wanted you for a long time, and now I know you want me too, and if you're not going to do anything about it, I guess I have to."  He waited for a moment to see if Hotch was going to say anything, but when he didn't, Spencer took a step closer until they were almost touching, forcing Hotch to back up against the counter.  "You, ah, you can't control everything, no matter how much you want to, and you can't change the way you feel.  You know that."

Hotch still wasn't saying anything, and his chest was rising and falling a little quickly.  He gaze was softening fast, though, and after a moment, Spencer chanced reaching up to brush his fingertips through Hotch's hair.  When Hotch's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, Spencer's heart gave a funny jolt and he nearly lost his breath.  He fitted himself against Hotch, which sent unexpected thrills through his entire body.  He leaned up a tiny bit to brush his lips against Hotch's, not kissing him yet, waiting breathlessly for Hotch to give in.

"I'm angry at you," Hotch breathed, unmoving.

Spencer closed his eyes.  He nibbled lightly at Hotch's lower lip, then scraped his teeth against it in invitation. 

Hotch's breath hitched.  "You're not listening to me."

"You're angry at me," Spencer murmured.

Hotch brushed his nose along Spencer's and drew a shaky breath, and then Spencer felt Hotch's arms go around his waist, and he let his full weight melt against Hotch.

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"Because I was reckless and stupid...  And now I'm bullying you into kissing me."

Hotch huffed a small breath that was almost a laugh.  "I haven't kissed you yet."

"I'm getting the impression that you will," Spencer said, smiling against the corner of Hotch's mouth.  "I'd wager sometime in the next sixty seconds or so."

"I'm angry because I don't know what I would have done if we lost you today," Hotch said.  "If... _I_ lost you."

The words were amazing to hear.  They sent a little shiver through Spencer.  It wasn't that he had any doubt how Hotch felt at this point, but it warmed him to hear the words actually leave Hotch's lips.  Spencer pulled back a bit to look at Hotch.  Hotch's eyes were closed; he was trying to steady himself.  After a moment, when Spencer had gained the breath to speak back, he ducked his head.  "Look at me," he whispered, and waited for Hotch to open his eyes, his expression serious. 

A grin broke hesitantly across Spencer's face.  "I so totally won this one."

Hotch's brows drew together for about a second before a smile stretched slowly across his face and he started laughing.  He swallowed the laugh a moment later and said, "Come here." He slid his hand around the back of Spencer's neck and pulled Spencer close.

When their lips met, Spencer drew a sharp breath and then let out a little whimpery noise as Hotch's tongue slid over his lower lip.  He didn't hesitate then to claim Hotch's mouth in a needy kiss of his own, pressing him back a bit.  "Win number two," he breathed against Hotch's mouth when they pulled apart.  "I'd say that was about forty-five seconds."

"Quiet," Hotch said, and slid his hands over Spencer's back, one hand drifting into Spencer's hair as he kissed him again.

"Don't worry, I'll still let you win at work most of the time," Spencer murmured, and then Hotch pulled back and cupped Spencer's face between his hands.

"I was being serious earlier," he said, holding Spencer's gaze with intent.

Spencer's lips parted, and he blinked at Hotch for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed in a way he'd never felt overwhelmed before, a good way.  He tried to think of something to say, anything that seemed right, but then swallowed.  "I know."

"You can't do that again."

Spencer just kept looking at Hotch, not wanting to make any promises that he wasn't sure he'd keep.

"Spencer..."

"Our jobs are dangerous," Spencer said, then took a steadying breath and finished with, "Aaron."

Aaron blinked, seeming taken aback at first, but then he looked down between them and seemed to center himself.  "Which is why you need to be careful."

"Can we talk about this later?" Spencer asked, and it took a moment, but Aaron nodded.  Spencer pressed against Aaron more, and felt Aaron's arms slip around his waist again.

He reached up to hook his hand in Aaron's tie.  "It's been over three hours since you left the BAU.  Why haven't you taken this off yet?

Aaron gave him the tiniest of shrugs.  "You haven't taken yours off either."

"I didn't go home."

Aaron leaned in to kiss Spencer again as Spencer tugged Aaron's tie loose.  He pulled it through Aaron's collar and then dropped it on the linoleum.

"We shouldn't do this," Aaron breathed against Spencer's cheek after a moment, his lips ghosting a trail over Spencer's skin.

"Why?"

"Because I don't _just_ want to have sex with you."

A smile bloomed on Spencer's face that he couldn't have contained if he'd wanted to.  "So?"

"So we don't have to rush into this," Aaron replied.

"We should.  One of us could get shot tomorrow," Spencer breathed as Aaron's lips reached his ear, but Aaron drew away at those words to look at Spencer.

"One of us could have gotten shot _today_."

"I thought we were dropping this for now," Spencer said, but Aaron was still just looking at him.  Spencer wondered if it were even possible to keep Aaron's focus on what they were doing, rather than what they were saying.  "Owen wouldn't have talked to you," he said after a pause, but started to pull open Aaron's shirt buttons.

Aaron didn't stop him.  "Spencer, I've talked people down more than a few times."

Spencer leaned in and trailed kisses over Aaron's jaw.  "That doesn't mean Owen would have trusted you like he trusted me."

Aaron's eyes fell shut again.  "No, he probably wouldn't have."

Spencer felt Aaron start to relax again, letting out a breath he'd been holding and tilting his head back to give Spencer's lips more room. 

"You could have just said that to me," Aaron breathed, but Spencer's fingers were stroking over his bare chest now, and Aaron was starting to sound like he wasn't listening to himself anymore.

"You were mad at me," Spencer murmured.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I got that.  Where's the bedroom?"

To Spencer's surprise, Aaron didn't continue arguing, or even protest about taking this slow again.  He tugged Spencer's shirt out of his pants and started nudging Spencer back.  A little thrill shot straight up Spencer's spine (and straight down to his cock, which was starting to take notice of all the kissing and touching) at the feel of Aaron's hand against the small of his back.  Aaron continued to kiss him and he guided them out of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs... which was awkward to do while kissing, but neither one of them seemed inclined to stop. 

Without breaking away, Spencer pushed Aaron's shirt off his shoulders, and Aaron just let it flutter to the carpet behind them, draping over three steps.  Spencer's tie joined it a moment later.  He couldn't contain his curiosity, though, and left his eyes open as they kissed, trying to take in Hotch's house.  He caught a glimpse of a few photographs of Jack hanging on the wall, and then they were rounding another corner into Hotch's bedroom and Hotch was flipping on the light.

"I have to look," he breathed, and Aaron smiled and let Spencer turn to look at the room without actually letting him go.  His arms were still around Spencer's waist, his chest to Spencer's back, and Spencer shivered as Aaron nosed under his hair to plant hot, open-mouth kisses along the back of his neck.

Spencer groaned and melted back against Aaron.  "I can't look when you're doing that."

"Look later.  I'm not kicking you out afterward," Aaron breathed against Spencer's skin, then leaned back enough to tug Spencer's shirt off over his head.

Aaron turned Spencer to kiss him again, and pants and underwear were joining Spencer's shirt on the floor.  Spencer's blood was racing, his body feeling like it was on fire, and then Aaron said what he was thinking: "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Spencer laughed, surprised and pleased, then hummed, "Mm-hm.  I know." Aaron was pulling him onto the bed and rolling Spencer on top of him.  Spencer whimpered at the feel of their arousals pressed together, the proof of just how much they wanted one another.  "We don't have to rush _this part_ ," Spencer panted, and he felt Aaron nudge him up slightly to meet his gaze.

"Spencer, have you done this before?"

"I've-- No.  Not this much," Spencer admitted.

"Spencer--"

"Inexperience with the physical act does not necessarily translate to ineptitude," Spencer argued quickly.  "Or fear," he added.

Aaron was still watching him, his fingers stroking through Spencer's hair, but he wasn't arguing.  His gaze was warm, and it made Spencer's chest feel pleasantly tight.

"Do you have a condom?" Spencer asked, and Aaron's expression changed slightly.

"No.  Spencer, I hardly planned on this so soon after--"

"I can top," Spencer said, cutting him off.  He doubted that Aaron had ever been reckless in regards to sex, but still...

"You've never--" Aaron started to argue.

"It's basic animal instinct, Aaron.  It can't be that hard."

Aaron just blinked at him for a moment, then managed, "Animal instinct?"

Spencer nodded.  "Mating instinct."

" _Mating_..."  Aaron started to laugh softly.  "I have to say, this isn't the sexiest dirty talk I've ever heard."

Spencer frowned.  "We _are_ animals."

"That's... hardly the point," Aaron said, but his thumbs were brushing Spencer's temples, as if to smooth away the frown.  It worked.

"I know what I want.  I'm nearly thirty.  I've been fantasizing at least a dozen years, and touching myself longer."

That seemed to quiet Aaron's arguments, even if he still looked slightly apprehensive, and Spencer shifted so he could settle between Aaron's legs.  Aaron let him without protest, but a moment later, Spencer understood the lingering apprehension in Aaron's gaze.

"I've never done this before," Aaron murmured.  It was something Spencer should have considered before now, given that Aaron had been with Haley since high school, but Spencer hadn't given it a thought until this moment.

Regardless, Spencer just leaned down and gave Aaron a lingering kiss.  "That makes us even then," he said.

Aaron let out a gusty breath that was almost amused except for the hint of a shake in it.  "Mmn."

"You at least have lube?" Spencer asked.

Aaron nodded, and Spencer gave Aaron a mock-devious grin.

"What? You don't?" Aaron replied.

Spencer nipped at Aaron's jaw, enjoying the little groan that caused.  "Lotion dries up.  Gets sticky," he said, grinning against Aaron's skin. 

Aaron was smiling faintly now too, and his hands were roaming Spencer's back, brushing over the length of one shoulder, down Spencer's spine.  Spencer gasped almost inaudibly when they cupped his ass and squeezed a little, another jolt of want shooting through his body.

Spencer slid a hand down to Aaron's hip.  "You trust me, right?"

"With absolute certainty," Aaron said without hesitation, and Spencer lost his breath for a moment, pressing his face against Aaron's neck.

" _God_ ," Spencer breathed.  The words were a little overwhelming, but no less wonderful.  It added a little extra pressure to this as well, but Spencer tilted his chin up after a moment and kissed Aaron's throat, his mouth hungry again with the renewed desire Aaron's words had sparked.  "God, Aaron."

Aaron shifted under him, his hands squeezing again as he tilted his chin back and pressed his throat up into Spencer's kisses.  Spencer had spent years thinking about this, imagining what Aaron would feel like and taste like.  He'd imagined the way Aaron might respond to being touched.  None of that compared to the reality, though.

Spencer bit the skin just under Aaron's Adam's apple, and Aaron made a strangled noise.  It flashed through Spencer's mind that he wanted to leave a mark, lower, a silent claim under Aaron's clothes that only they knew about.  It wasn't probably the sort of thing he should think, but it seemed completely unavoidable.

"Spencer..." Aaron breathed.

"Hmm?" Spencer hummed, licking his way over one of Hotch's collar bones.

"You're so beautiful," Aaron whispered, and Spencer felt his entire body go hot.

He shifted lower and took one of Aaron's nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and then biting lightly at the little nub, enjoying the way Aaron arched under him.  Aaron had flung an arm out and was fumbling in the bedside table's drawer, and when he withdrew it, he had a little bottle which he passed down to Spencer.  Spencer could feel Aaron holding his breath as he did, so he put the bottle aside and laved his tongue over Aaron's chest, over his breast bone to the other nipple until he felt Aaron melt back against the mattress again.

"Good," Aaron breathed, and one of his hands slid up to Spencer's hair, stroking almost tenderly.

"Thank you," Spencer said, and when he looked up at Aaron, Aaron had opened his eyes and was watching him hungrily.  Spencer sucked in a shaky breath and moved lower, his lips moving over a taut stomach, and when he felt Aaron's head drop against the mattress again, a little moan escaping his lips, Spencer slicked his finger and pressed it against Aaron's entrance.  Aaron tensed slightly, so Spencer leaned down and licked a tentative stripe up the underside of Aaron's cock.

It drew another soft moan from Aaron, so Spencer did it again, and worked his finger slowly inside.  Aaron's body tightened again, so Spencer covered the head of his prick with his mouth.  Aaron gasped, his fingers curling in Spencer's hair, and then he managed a strained, "I'm starting to think you lied about not having done this."

Spencer hummed a laugh that made Aaron arch against the mattress, and made a mental note to remember the reaction that got.  That one, he hadn't expected.

"How are you so calm...?  How'd you... learn this?" Aaron panted.

Spencer pulled back to smile at Aaron, amazed by the sight of him letting go to this, before he managed to say, "Genius."

"Right," Aaron said, his tone as disbelieving as Spencer imagined it could get at the moment.

"After this long, without any sort of consistent outlet but my own hand, I have a pretty vivid imagination," he murmured, and flicked his tongue at Aaron's slit, pulling another louder moan from Aaron.  "See? I just... had a feeling that would feel good."

"Yes," Aaron breathed.

Spencer slid his finger in more, his own body starting to demand the tight heat around his finger to be around his cock, and turned his finger, pressing it against Aaron's prostate.  Aaron gasped, making a strangled noise of pleasure.

"It helps that I know anatomy."

Aaron seemed to try to laugh but it got lost.  "God, it does..."

Spencer continued to press, his finger circling the spot that was making Aaron melt under his ministrations.  That single thing seemed to be doing more to loosen Aaron's body than anything Spencer had tried before it.  "You'll have to do all this to me later."

"Can't wait," Aaron breathed.

Spencer hummed a satisfied noise, and slipped his mouth over Aaron's cock again.  When Aaron was whimpering and obviously trying not to buck against Spencer's mouth, Spencer pulled his finger out most of the way and slid a second one back in with it.

"Nnngh!"

"Okay?" Spencer whispered.

Aaron didn't exactly answer, except that his hands started to stroke Spencer's hair again.  Spencer watched the shallow rise and fall of Aaron's chest before he continued his gentle exploration with his fingers.

A third finger joined the others when Aaron relaxed again, and Spencer pressed himself against the bed, trying to gain a little friction against his own cock.  God, he could still hardly believe this was happening, and not only was it happening, but Aaron was surrendering himself to this.

Spencer pressed his forehead to Hotch's thigh and willed himself not to thrust against the bed.  "God, Aaron," he panted.  "Want you."

Aaron made a noise that Spencer couldn't interpret, but a moment later, Aaron gave Spencer's hair a gentle tug, and Spencer didn't hesitate to move.  He climbed up the bed over Aaron again, and kissed him with all the need that was running through him.

"Spencer," Aaron breathed when they broke apart, his hands clutching at Spencer, which made it difficult for Spencer to open the bottle again and slick his cock, but he managed it.

For a moment he considered nudging Aaron to roll over, but then settled again where he was, wanting to watch Aaron give himself over to this.

"Are you nervous?"

The murmured question took Spencer off guard, and he looked down at Aaron, whose eyes were half-lidded and warm.  It took Spencer a moment to realize what Aaron meant, and then he swallowed.  "I haven't screwed up _yet_."

Aaron let out a lazy laugh, and pulled Spencer down for another kiss.  Spencer aligned himself, missed the first time, and then he was pressing inside of Aaron.  Aaron's breath went tight again, and as soon as the head of Spencer's cock breached Aaron's entrance, the initial resistance was gone and Spencer slid in too fast.

Aaron gasped, tensing, and Spencer stilled.  "Okay?"

"Nnnh... I don't know yet," Aaron choked out.

Spencer didn't move, even as his own body felt on fire with the feeling of being buried inside of Aaron.  "God," he panted, pressing his head to Aaron's shoulder.  "You shouldn't have asked if I was nervous.  I jinxed myself."  _Now_ he was a little nervous.  "Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize," Aaron breathed

They stayed where they were, Spencer letting Aaron adjust to the feeling, and when Aaron didn't push away, Spencer's anxiety was collapsing again under the weight of his desire.  Spencer lifted his head again after a few moments and started trailing kisses along Aaron's neck, up to his jaw, and then he finally shifted to kiss Aaron's mouth.  Aaron sucked in another breath when Spencer moved, but it didn't sound uncomfortable. 

Spencer reached down and curled his fingers around Aaron's cock, focusing for a moment, trying to recreate the way he liked to touch himself, and between that and the tender swipes of tongue against tongue, Aaron started to unravel underneath Spencer.

"Okay," he whispered, and Spencer's kiss grew more hungry.

He shifted and rocked his hips against Aaron, another spasm of need ripping through him.  He watched Aaron's face for a moment as Aaron groaned.  His expression was somewhere between discomfort and pleasure.  Spencer tightened his hand and stroked again, waiting for the pleasure in Aaron's expression to outweigh the other before he moved again.

"You're so sexy," Spencer whispered, and Aaron opened his eyes to look at Spencer again.  he almost looked disbelieving, but Spencer just kissed him again.  "Tell me how it feels," he requested.

"Strange," Aaron said without hesitation.  Spencer started to wonder if that was good, but after several heartbeats, Aaron added, "Intimate."  His hands were on Spencer's ass again, squeezing, and Spencer took it as a cue to thrust a little more.

Aaron gasped, but his knees drew up a bit so that his thighs were pressed at Spencer's hips, giving Spencer a better angle.  "Getting better," he murmured, and Spencer laughed against his skin.

"Good," he said.  "Because you feel fantastic."

"Mmm," Aaron acknowledged, and then groaned when Spencer moved faster.

He tried to match the strokes of his hand to his thrusts, which turned out to be a lot harder than he'd thought, but Aaron didn't seem to mind.  He was panting and moaning as Spencer moved, and the thrill that Spencer doubted Aaron would give himself over like this to anyone else was almost more arousing than the way his body was singing.

"Wanted you so long," Aaron breathed.  "You're addictive."

Spencer moaned at those words and bit at Aaron's jaw again, his hips moving faster.  "Thank you," he whispered, sliding his free hand down to grip Aaron's hip, holding him steady under increasingly needy thrusts.

"Oh, God!" Aaron gasped.

"Ngh, yes," Spencer panted, his need beginning to overwhelm him.  "Aaron," he panted, his lips moving down until he was able to suck hard at the jut of Aaron's collar bone.  He worried it with his teeth as he sucked, giving into the desire to leave his mark on Aaron's body.

Aaron made a strangled noise and arched under him.  "Spencer!" he cried, and the every nerve in Spencer's body exploded.

He came hard, stilling inside of Aaron and moaning against his skin.  He rocked his hips a few more times, wringing the last of his release from him, and then slumped down.  "Mmmmmmm," was about all he managed to say, his weight rising and falling, Aaron's breath short underneath him.  "So good," he breathed, and Aaron's hands were stroking through his hair again.

It seemed to take a moment for blood to return to his brain, and he became dimly aware that his fingers were still around Aaron's cock.  "Shit, sorry," he mumbled, then pulled out of Aaron and lifted a little to start stroking again.

"Ungh," Aaron replied, pressing his head back against the pillow.  "It's fine," he breathed, sounding engrossed in the feeling of Spencer's hand.

Spencer kissed his chin, then his Adam's apple, feeling the sudden need to say something.  "You're..." he started, then wasn't sure how to put it into words.  "You're the best man I know," he whispered, which was the closest thing to what he meant that he could think of.

Aaron opened his eyes and held Spencer's gaze, his eyes somehow surprised and full of want at the same time.  "Spencer," he murmured, but then closed his eyes.  Spencer could see the pleasure overtaking him, so he stroked harder.  And then Aaron groaned and came over Spencer's hand, Spencer's name on his lips.

Spencer stroked until Aaron was spent, and then slid down next to him, his arm draped over Aaron's rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Two points for animal instinct," Aaron mumbled, and Spencer couldn't help laughing as he settled against Aaron's side.

 

**********

 

The little red bruise that Spencer had left on Aaron's skin was under Aaron's shirt somewhere.  Well, not just somewhere.  Spencer knew where the hickey was.  He probably could have touched it through Aaron's shirt without having to look, because he'd practically memorized Aaron's body after Aaron had drifted off to sleep before him.

Knowing it was there didn't do anything for Spencer's focus the next day at work.  At least once, he caught Morgan looking at him strangely, and Rossi had thrown him a discerning look on his way from the coffee pot back to his office early in the morning.

When JJ called them up to the round table room, though, that scattered attention refocused on the case JJ was briefing them on.  Aaron told them wheels up in a half an hour, then disappeared into his office.  Spencer gathered his things and headed out.

"Ride with me."

Rossi was walking behind him, and Spencer hadn't heard him coming.  The request for Spencer's company to the airstrip was not really a request, so Spencer followed Rossi to his SUV.

It was quiet for a while as the drove, the radio playing a song that Spencer didn't recognize, and then Rossi spoke.  "Someone grew a pair."

"Huh?" Spencer asked immediately, turning to look.

"I knew you would.  Congratulations."

Spencer couldn't manage to do anything but blink at him.  He wasn't sure why he was surprised that Rossi already knew.  Spencer wasn't sure why he suddenly felt strange admitting it, either, but he did.

"Dumb is unbecoming on you," Rossi said after a long pause.

Spencer expelled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  "God, does the entire team know?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Not yet, I don't think."

"How'd you know?"

"Aaron isn't wearing a tie today," Rossi said.

Spencer blinked at Rossi again, then shook his head.  "That doesn't mean anything."

"You know as well as I do that it does."

Spencer watched Rossi for another moment, then turned to look out the windshield again, because he knew Rossi was right.  "What do I do now?" he said, after the song on the radio changed and a few bars of the new song had passed.

"I can't answer that," Rossi said.

Spencer snorted.  "You answer everything else, whether we want you to or not."

Rossi smirked, then nodded.  "Keep him."

"Keep him?" Spencer said, his brows drawing together as he turned to look at Rossi again.  "That's it?"

"Yes."

"That seems a little simplistic," Spencer said.  And it did.  Too simple.  Stupidly simple.

After a moment, Rossi just chuckled, then turned to give Spencer a look as he pulled into a parking spot on the tarmac.  "Spencer... Honestly.  Not everything is rocket science," he said, and then slipped out of the car without another word.

  
_"The chemist who can extract from his heart's elements compassion, respect, longing, patience, regret, surprise, and forgiveness and compound them into one can create that atom which is called love.” ~ Kahlil Gibran_


End file.
